


Debriefings

by spacegoth



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Age Difference, Alien Sex, Anal Sex, Blood, Blow Jobs, First Time, Keith's Bad Decision Time, Kinktober 2017, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Masks, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Size Difference, Xenophilia, post-mission sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-26 23:49:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12568936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegoth/pseuds/spacegoth
Summary: Keith goes to Kolivan to get the relief he needs, and ends up pushing it a little too far.





	Debriefings

The first time it happens, neither of them expect it. They've returned from a mission and Kolivan is giving Keith what can only be described as a _dressing down_ , in the guise of a _debriefing_ (does anyone notice, Keith wonders, the kind of metaphors that get used for this shit?): you can't keep doing this, you're putting yourself at risk, you're putting the Blade at risk. Somehow one moment he is stalking back and forth enumerating all the ways Keith has failed and the next he is silent as Keith kneels between his legs and, mask dissolved away, undoes the seams of his suit to reach for his cock.  
  
Keith is unfamiliar with the workings of Galra cock, but it turns out to not be all that different from humans: touch it just right, and it rises and leaks. He puts his mouth on it and anchors his hands on Kolivan's hips as he struggles to take his cock down into his throat. Keith gives head without much skill or technique, relying on sheer enthusiasm, but it does the trick. Kolivan bucks his hips, still eerily silent, and he gets his first taste of Galra come. It's sweeter than his own, just slightly, with an aftertaste he can't quite name.  
  
The featureless blankness of Kolivan's mask looks down at him. "I'm not the one you really want," he says, after a while.  
  
Keith wipes the corner of his mouth and gets up. Even standing at his full height, he barely comes up to Kolivan's collarbones. "Don't tell me what I want. Or who."  
  
"Hm." Kolivan takes Keith's chin in his hand and turns his face to the side, as if trying to figure it out. "Very well," he says, and releases him.  
  
Fucking Galra. Fucking Blade. Fucking _Kolivan_. Keith hates him just a little, but his heart still starts beating twice as fast, in his chest and his cock, at the tone in his voice.  
  
That's the start of it, that _very well_. If the mission goes well, if Keith doesn't take too many unnecessary risks, then Kolivan will allow him certain liberties. He will allow Keith to go to his knees and suck him, or press his face into his crotch, or just sit between his legs on the floor of his quarters. Depending on how well it goes. He's using it as goddamn training, Keith thinks—Keith knows. Incentive, for the misfit Blade. Or at least, he thinks sourly, that's what he's telling himself behind that mask, as he spills his load.  
  
After the fourth or fifth time Keith feels like screaming for Kolivan to fuck him, to wreck his ass with that thick Galra cock. He wants to lose himself, he wants to get choked and slapped and fucked into oblivion. He wants more than that goddamn expressionless mask looking at him while he deep-throats Kolivan and smears his come over his bruised lips.  
  
_I'm not the one you want._ As if humans were that simple. Fuck him. Keith will prove him wrong.  
  
Of course, after making that resolution, he doesn't even manage to get Kolivan alone for...too fucking long. In the time between his missions, sleeping or managing to get some time in the Castle of Lions, he jerks himself until his cock is sore, thinking about Kolivan fucking him, Regris fucking him, maybe the whole Blade lining up to fuck him, one by one. Sometimes Kolivan watches them do it.Sometimes Shiro does, but his face keeps going shadowy and unclear. Kolivan, at least, has a mask to hide behind.  
  
It's when they get back from tracking the Quintessence route, and Keith almost gets himself and Regris both left behind, that something finally cracks. Kolivan almost yanks him into his quarters, and this time the mask comes off: his face behind it is not his usual cold, placid expression—a mask he wears beneath his mask—but snarling, lips curled, fangs out, eyes blazing. Keith's pulse is fluttering like a wing as Kolivan lays into him.  
  
"I won't say this in front of Regris," he growls, "but you owe the Blade better than this. You owe Voltron better than this. You're still one of five, and I do not relish the idea of having to explain to Shiro that his—that one of his paladins has been killed due to his own stupidity."  
  
Keith shrugs. "He won't be too surprised."  
  
Kolivan grabs him by both shoulders and shakes him. "Do you think I relish the thought of losing you?"  
  
"Why," Keith says, with a nasty grin, "going to miss me sucking you off?"  
  
Kolivan shoves him away with a disgusted grunt and turns his back on him.  
  
_Fuck_. This wasn't how he imagined this going. He feels like he's reeling; going out of control. He needs to do something, something to make this shaking go away. Keith swallows hard. "Kolivan."  
  
He doesn't turn, but his head tilts, just a little, and his shoulders are tense as taut wires.  
  
"Kolivan."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Fuck me."  
  
He growls at that, and turns. "What?"  
  
"Please fuck me, Kolivan."  
  
"Do you think that's—"  
  
"I don't care. I want it. I want it—" Keith hitches a breath and realizes that he's on the edge of tears. "So fucking bad."  
  
He takes a deep breath. "You're—"  
  
"Whatever you're about to say," Keith says savagely, "it should apply whether you fuck me or just let me suck your cock. Please. I need—I need to—"  
  
Then Kolivan is kneeling in front of Keith, for once, and with quick and practiced hands he is taking off the Blade of Marmora uniform Keith is wearing. He shivers a little; he doesn't have Kolivan's fur to keep him warm, beneath it. His cock is so hard it lays almost flat against his belly. Kolivan looks at it, almost speculatively; he's never seen Keith naked before. "How do I—"  
  
"N-no." Keith clears his throat. "You put your cock inside my—my ass—"  
  
"That might injure you," he says, his tone somewhere between careful and acerbic.  
  
"Not if you go slow, and make it...make it slick."  
  
Kolivan does not quite smile—Keith isn't sure he has ever seen the leader of the Blade smile—but something quirks at the corner of his mouth. "That can be arranged," he says, and rises. He prods Keith toward his bed. "Lie down."  
  
_Oh God. Oh fuck. Oh this is happening._ Keith lies back, almost dizzy with arousal and nerves, and spreads his legs. His cock is pounding between them; when Kolivan wraps a hand around it he almost comes right then and there. "No, wait, not like that," he says, breathless.  
  
"Inside you?"  
  
"Yes. Do you have...uh, something to, lubricate...?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
Keith looks down. "Oh." Kolivan's cock is larger than before—no, not larger, it's further extended from the sheath where it usually lies quiescent, and he is producing, God, absolute fucking gallons of precum. "Jesus," Keith says softly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Never mind. Just. Do all Galra make so much...slick?"  
  
"You don't?" He tilts his head. "How do you smooth the way for mating, then?"  
  
Keith laughs a little. "Our women usually get wet, down there."  
  
"Hrm. So you leave it to one sex?"  
  
"I'm not—ahh!" Keith moans and Kolivan squeezes the base of his cock. "I'm not here to listen to lectures on equality from a—a—"  
  
"A what?" And now Kolivan sounds almost amused; if all it had taken was for Keith to offer his ass to him he would have done it several quintants ago. He releases his cock and spreads open Keith's ass, and lines the head of his well-lubricated cock up with Keith's hole.  
  
_Fuck. Fuck. He's big._ Keith looks down at Kolivan lined up to fuck him and feels a moment of absolute panic. He's never had anything bigger than his own fingers up there, and Kolivan's cock is significantly larger than that. He closes his eyes and breathes hard and fast.  
  
"Slow down your breathing," Kolivan whispers. "Easy."  
  
Patience yields focus, comes another voice in the back of Keith's mind, and he moans in something that is almost pain—it's too much.  
  
"Easy," Kolivan says again, and lays his palm against Keith's cheek. The tenderness undoes him, and he comes. That's when Kolivan pushes forward and the head of his cock slips inside Keith's hole he feels so stretched and hurt but so right. The lubricating precome keeps coming, easing the way, and there is something else coming, something even wider, and Keith's eyes fly wide open and his mouth makes a silent O as Kolivan pushes inch after inch of himself in.  
  
He's spilled himself already, come making the fur of Kolivan's belly sticky, but the pleasure keeps coming on the back of the hurt. It feels like nothing Keith has felt before, not his fingers, not his fantasies, not the furtive jerks in his quarters in the Castle of Lions when he imagined this in what he now realises was sadly lacking detail. There was never pain when he imagined it, but there was never the sense of being opened, either, of someone piercing down into the center of him.  
  
"Ready for more?"  
  
Keith whimpers—there's more?—but also nods, half because he doesn't want to disappoint Kolivan and half because he wants to know if more of Kolivan's cock means more pleasure-pain, more feeling, more opening.

"Remember to breathe," he says, low-voiced, and then moves his hips and Keith yowls as something fucking massive presses into his ass, God how did he think he was ever going to take this? He digs his nails into Kolivan's shoulders and he wants to scream stop, stop, please but all that's coming out of his mouth is this animal howl petering out to a sobbing whimper.

A few moments later he notices Kolivan has stopped moving, is poised on his elbows above him, and he realises he must have blacked out, just for a heartbeat. That enormous thing is still inside him and his ass is throbbing around it and he feels like he can't move, can't talk, can barely breathe, but if he makes Kolivan stop now he's afraid he'll never get him to fuck him again. So he stops, breathes. Forces himself to accept the almost burning stretch of it. "I-I'm okay," he says, and he's surprised that his voice doesn't sound shakier—almost sounds normal.

"You are sure?"

Keith nods frantically against Kolivan's shoulder. "Please don't stop," he breathes.

"If you say so," he rumbles, and licks at Keith's neck; the words and the gesture are the most affection Kolivan has ever shown him and Keith dissolves into incoherence at it—between that and the thick intrusion of Kolivan's cock he feels so amazingly replete, so indulged. He's shivering as Kolivan begins to move, careful and slow, and for once—for one blessed fucking time in his life—there's quiet in his head, there's nothing but feeling.

"Keith."

He doesn't know how long it has been, with them conjoined like this. Long enough for his cock to half-harden again. Long enough that the pain is almost gone—his ass must have adjusted, even to something of this size. He blinks and comes back to himself, and looks up into Kolivan's eyes. He realises he can see his pupils; the reflective glow of his eyes is dimmer than usual, and in the depths of yellow iris there is a orange-gold slit. They're beautiful, he thinks. "That's the first time you've said my name," he whispers.

"You're bleeding," he says curtly, and with slow care he pulls away. The pain comes back with a sudden surge and Keith sobs as Kolivan's cock slips out of his aching hole.

A lurch of panic grips Keith's chest. "H-how—"

"I could smell it." Kolivan grabs Keith by the thighs; he maneuvers him deftly so Keith's ass is in the air, humiliatingly high.

"What are you doing?"

"Cleaning your wounds," he says, and then he's licking at Keith's hole, warm wet tongue soft as velvet with the slightest rough edge.

Keith squirms and stutters out a moaning noise under Kolivan's ministrations. "No, Kolivan, it's—"

He stops a moment. "What is it?"

Keith's blush is so extensive that it seems to span his entire body, a heat of shame and pleasure and shame in that pleasure, punctuated by the still-throbbing ache in his hole. "Isn't it, isn't it dirty?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he says gruffly, and continues licking gently at Keith's hole. His tongue is wide and hot and every now and then it probes into him and Keith feels like he's fucking dissolving. His eyes roll back into his head and his hips twitch and he whimpers like a wounded thing as Kolivan cleans him out. Then Kolivan closes a hand around the base of his cock again, and—tongue now laving the sensitive flesh between his hole and his balls—gives it such long, slow, langurous jerks that Keith thinks he's going to go crazy. He's used to quick and harsh, biting down his moans, biting down the names he wants to scream, not this torturous slowness.

"Kolivan, Kolivan, please..." He bucks his hips, fucking into Kolivan's fist, pressing into his tongue. His hands grip hard into the bed and his toes curl almost painfully. He's going to come again, and Kolivan hasn't come even once—he almost panics at that, thinking he's fucked things up somehow, but the feelings of being slow-jerked and licked out overidde it and then it's happening, it's washing over him in strange and almost awful torrents of feeling, too much, too much.

He doesn't know if he calls out Kolivan's name, or another name; he doesn't know whether he howls or bucks his hips in silence. When he comes down from it his head is swimming. Kolivan lowers his hips gently and rises from the bed to go wash out his mouth, and for a moment Keith feels lower than dirt—feels sure that he's going to walk right out and leave him naked and shivering like this, used and alone—but then he comes back to the bed and slides in beside Keith, putting an arm around him and pulling him close.

"That was a foolish thing you did."

Keith hunches his shoulders in tight and half-laughs. "Sleeping with you?"

"Sleeping?"

"Uh. Earth term. Fucking you."

"Letting me do that to you, without being more prepared."

"You prepared me pretty well."

"Hmm. You know what I mean."

Keith turns himself around so his forehead is tucked against Kolivan's chest. He makes a soft, pleased rumbling noise and Keith closes his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Your apology is accepted." He strokes the back of Keith's neck. "Now rest, furless. Rest at least once before the next foolish thing you do."

"Yessir," he mutters sleepily, and throws his arm around Kolivan's waist. For now there's Kolivan's warmth and the slow rumble of his breathing. He'll deal with the rest when he wakes up.


End file.
